dillonsrollingwesternfandomcom-20200214-history
User blog:Aerostar/Return of the Red Flash: Ch. 1
Ch. 1 Exposition The air just beginning to chill, this day marked more than just the first day of November, but also the first day of school for a young armadillo. His family, who had lived just outside the city as Scruffle harvesters, had scraped together enough money to send their young son to the school of Sun City. The eager armadillo, aptly named Dillon, was soon to experience his first day of learning. Donning only a cyan bandana that was obviously too big a fit for him and a small sack more appropriately sized, Dillon was excited to make new friends, as the plains where he lived were so vast that it would take a wild scrog herd a month to pass through. Dillon steered clear of the larger and obviously older kids. He decided to focus on studies for now, hoping friends would come to him soon. Before he could enter his classroom, a yell rang through the dusty air. Fearing more large kids, Dillon hoped to ignore him. But when the yell became a cry for help, Dillon decided to investigate. Dillon tracked the cry behind the school, lined with garbage. There a raccoon and much larger badger, both with an intimidating gaze even at their age of only a few years beyond Dillon, had cornered a squirrel in the alley no older than Dillon himself. "H-hey! Come on guys, aren't we all friends here?" whimpered the squirrel. The badger growled. "Ain't gonna happen. Your dad's an engineer or somefin' other, ain't he? Purdy sure a guy like that's got some greenbacks to spare." Dillon ducked behind an old wooden box. The raccoon snickered. "Just enough for lunch. That's all. Spare some schoolmates a buck, will ya?" The squirrel still fought back. "No! A squirrel without a family ain't going to have an easy time finding money for himself!" The raccoon sighs. "Guess we gonna do this the hard way, then. Show 'im the claws, Braxton!" Braxton, baring his teeth for added measure, grasped the squirrel by the tail in his left paw before unsheathing the claws on his right paw, previously hidden in his gloves. "Maybe this'a change your mind, eh, squirrely?" snarled Braxton. "My name's Russ, not Squirrelly!" shouted the squirrel. "Just leave me alone! Someone, help!" At that moment, something stirred within young Dillon. Though he couldn't identify what it was, it seemed to empower him. That something was the primal essence of justice; that all else was to be right in the world before all could be right within the possesser of such a feeling. "H-hey! Leave him alone!" yelped Dillon as he leapt from his concealment. Startled, the raccoon stumbled into a trash can while Braxton nearly lost his grip on Russ' tail. "Hey! When'd you get here?!" shouted the raccoon. Slapping Russ against the earthen floor in an almost comical fashion, Braxton stepped up to Dillon while leaving Russ flat against the ground. "Aww, the little guy think's he's so tough," he jeered in a mockingly endearing way. "Ringo, get a load o' this kid!" After giving Russ a Don't you go anywhere ''glare, Ringo joined Braxton. "Heh! Trying to stand up for a little wimp like that squirrel? He ain't gonna tell us what to do." Dillon's bandana, unbeknownst to him, held an essence of its own that would keep any ranger, or in this case little kid, calm in a battle. "I can't tell you what to do. But I can still protect him! So now I shall—" ''Whomp! ''A single punch from Braxton to the gut sent Dillon flying into the nearest wall. Dillon doubled over, trying to catch his breath. "Save your breath. You o'viously need it, ya windbag," sneered Ringo. Armed with only some small boots and gloves, Dillon was little match for the bullies...or so he had thought. The essence of justice returning to him, he knew in his heart he had to help Russ. Revealing his long claws that all armadillos naturally possess, he was ready to take them on. Dillon surprised both bullies by launching a quick roll attack at Ringo, knocking him down. "Your turn to save your breath!" he exclaimed before Braxton tackled him. By this time Russ was now up, though confused as to what to do. Dillon swung around Braxton's neck until he sat upon the badger's shoulders. Enraged, Braxton attempted to fling Dillon off by thrashing about. As if riding a horse, Dillon still clung to his shoulders and ears. Seeing as the badger would not give up, he began to claw at him. Snarling, Braxton finally reached Dillon, seizing him by the foot and slamming into the ground beside Russ. Dillon's eye began to sting, and he realized in horror that he had cut the skin just below his left eye. A liquid scar of mortal red now clouding his vision and hurting more than a scrog stampede, Dillon collapsed to the ground, whimpering. The savage Braxton laughed. "Ain't smart to mess with someone twice yer size, dillo'. Best of all, we weren't caught. Let's see ya show your face around school now, chump!" Still snickering, Ringo and Braxton abandoned the scene of the fight. It had all been a traumatic experience for Dillon. Two doors to his heart were altered at that moment. By showing weakness, the door to Dillon's emotions was sealed off. The second door, leading to his hard-working attitude, was opened and remained that way. Russ ran to Dillon's side. "Hey! Are you OK?" he asked worriedly. His emotions sealed, Dillon couldn't answer. That, and his injury still hurt. "Come on, stand up." Tearing a small piece from his clothing, he dabbed Dillon's eye. "It's not much, but I hope this helps." The shred of cloth quickly absorbed the blood, showing the sight of a scar across his eye. Russ helped the armadillo to his feet. "My name's Russ. What's yours?" asked Russ. Dillon hesitated, another trait acquired from the fight. He said his name so quietly it seemed barely a whisper. "Dillon. I'm Dillon." * ''Dillon and Russ continued throughout their school days, growing up together as if they were brothers. Dillon still rarely spoke, and only when everyone else but Russ was out of earshot. Dillon and Russ began to live together in an old mission upon the untimely death of Dillon's parents to a fire, widely believed to have been caused by arson. However, the friends, now in their teenage years, soon lost the deeds to the mission to an anonymous criminal. After finding that the anonymous criminal would return the deeds to their home for $100000, Dillon and Russ decided to start a new life once hearing of troubles of settlers out west, dealing with an odd pest known locally as grocks. Taking to the life of rangers, though unofficial ones at that, Dillon and Russ set out to deal with the ranger's plight. Under the baking sun, on the desert plains of the new frontier, lies a village built with blood, sweat and tears. One day, strange rock monsters suddenly appeared and started eating the village's livestock. Hearing of the settlers' plight, a wannabe ranger and his partner rushed to the wilds. A brave, young armadillo with a troubled past: a past he would rather remain unknown. His name is whispered in the backstreets and alleys. And that name is Dillon. (Editing completed. Expect Ch. 2 soon!) Category:Blog posts